"How does it feel?" she asked calmly, checking the small gauge on the blood pressure reader to affirm that the levels were as needed. The titan enforcer grunted loudly, an issue of sound forcing its way outward in a strained, pained sort of way.

"G-good…"

He speaks. Of course he would speak. She had heard him speak soon after his transformation. That moment of enjoyment as he reveled in his newfound gifts had exploded the word, "Bane" with enthusiasm. So he was good. As was needed.

"Good," she agreed, nodding with satisfaction at the levels. She withdrew the pressure reader and sat comfortably back in her seat. The soft padding of private Citation X seats were comforting as they soared across the night sky, the invisible Gulf of Mexico looked by their shadow thousands of feet below. Seven hours of driving to the São Paulo-Guarulhos International Airport, and then two hours of stalking appropriate prospects for stealing a private plane: color and comfort were everything. Faded greenish-brown had been her choice, courtesy of the late, poisoned businessman Senor Eduardo Salvador. Bane, the charming dear that he was, had even taken the pleasure of bashing in the skulls of Salvador's three bodyguards, effortlessly and calmly, of course. It had been like playing a game. Their bodies had been left to litter the airport runway, a going away present for the police of São Paulo, while Eduardo's brother, the pilot Alejandro, manned the cockpit up front, his mind dazed as Ivy continued to send whiffs of the pheromones every few minutes. He was hopelessly in love with her, and would never dare to question where she wanted him to take her, or why.

And of course, he would be rewarded. A kiss from the fair princess upon arrival in Gotham. He was fitting to deserve such a reward.

She was completely relaxed, overwhelmed by how easy this all was. Murder and sex seemed to have the same effects: pleasure. How many years had she spent, condemning criminals she had seen on television for their horrible, gruesome crimes against other mammals? To experience it now, the thrill of the kill… she could understand them. And much more, she could bring herself to create art of our own: the bodies the canvas, her poison the paint. She squeezed Bane's leg gently, as she threw her own over his lap, using him as a footrest, her head resting lightly against the plane window as she observed the sky around them. She kicked off her shoes, snapping her fingers at Bane and gesturing at her feet. A massage was required, and he understood right away as he obeyed the silent command.

She had donned new clothes of the mammal, shedding the tattered, ivy covered wear of her Rebirth for something more socially acceptable: a black business skirt with a similarly colored dress shirt and stockings. Her hair was put back, in a short bun, her hands hidden with leather gloves. She looked very professional, very generic, even, but still swelling with beauty that captivated victims to the exchange of saliva. A professional Wayne Enterprises employee, with a purpose to be brought before Bruce Wayne. And, of course, a wig to match her old hair color, however much a shame it was to hide away the sensual red that she had become. To build the steps to Eden, you had to plant the seeds, and grow them slowly. There would be time for Poison Ivy later. For now, the falseness of Pamela Lillian Isley, recently unemployed scientist from the Yadvich South American facility, would overtake as illusion. Lies.

Bane, on the other hand, would don the mask when in public, so as to not draw attention to his skin malfunctions. The excuse would be skin cancer, with UV radiation being a danger to the poor soul contained behind that mask. But, of course, as Woodrue had made her of the plant, so too had he made Bane of the mask. The mas was in every way him, and he deserved it as such, for to be above humankind, you must carry your mark, and carry it well. The mask was the scepter, as he red hair was her crown. Physical evidence of their ascension.

"Bane, dear, we should consider housing," she told him, as she pondered the idea of their living arrangements once they reached Gotham City. "Gotham's a great metropolis and the rates aren't the best. Once we secure a vehicle, maybe that can serve as temporary quarters…or, if we really want, we could take someone's home. What do you think, Bane? Will it be an old lady living out on West 5, or a family of three near Kent Square?" Her eyes flashed as she imagined the looks on the faces of any victim they potentially approached. "Young men go through puberty and must simply be taught how to kiss, Bane." She laughed darkly to herself, acknowledging, with a sort of amusement, her complete lack of empathy when it came to the thought of murdering a child. A mammal was a mammal, and it may be fun to kill a couple of kids here and there. They got scared more easily, and as far as she saw it, to cause them pain and terror would be almost like a form of foreplay.

Bane, of course, nodded silently, acknowledging that any decision on her part was to be respected, the idea simply worshipped without question. He finished massaging her and she spun herself around, to where she had her feet against the cold window and her head in the giant's lap. She gazed up into his eyeholes, pondering the thoughts of the mad mind within.

"We're going to destroy the world, Bane," the soulless, heartless plant queen whispered to him. She massaged her own groin as she thought of the chaos and death that the two of them could bring about. Corpses, for as high as the eye could see. Utter oblivion. "You're going to be a king, Bane. King Antonio Diego, father of the new Eden!" she announced loudly in a mock imitation of the Spanish accent. It was clumsy, but Bane grunted loudly.

"King…"

"Yes, Bane, king. Can you imagine it?" Self-pleasuring not denied, her thoughts turned to her murder of Woodrue, a sexual "fantasy" she could hold onto and enjoy. "Plants, breaking through the sidewalks themselves, vines that strangle mammals where they stride and flowers that release the most poisonous of spores into their throats…" She was starting to sweat, but the intensity of the thought was far too much for her to care as lubrication swelled from the daydream. "I'm going to have them lined up, by the masses, the men in chains as they move forward, one by one, to be subjected to my kiss, Bane. And the women, they'll become food to my babies, when I bring them life, tossed by groups of seven or eight into pits of giant Fly Traps and thorns by the thousands, their blood toiling the soil…" She gasped loudly, the intensity of it all too much. Her body was swelling with heat, swelling with anticipation. Bane held her calmly still, nodding with questioning it.

He wanted it too, even if he did not voice it aloud. She closed her eyes, trying to get her breathing under control. She wanted them dead. Dead, dead, all of them dead. Murdered, slaughtered, however the term came, she wanted it as badly as the greatest fortune. Eden would come, of course, to begin the new world, the new haven, but the pleasure itself came from knowing that she could bring as much death and destruction to the mammals that destroyed Mother Earth as she would be able to.

"Pamela Isley," her mother had once said. "It's a beautiful name, isn't it? You're going to grow up to do amazing things, Pamela. I just know it. You hold onto every dream you come across and don't hold back, and fight the world when it tries to take it from you."

Well, mama dear, that dream was going to be fulfilled. And you would die with the rest of the mammals. It was only fitting that she must die. She existed, and that made her an enemy of Mother Nature. Pamela Isley, the false form, was dead, and she would ensure that Isley stayed dead. Poison Ivy was the true form, the realized haven of nature in a living body. Poison as her name suggested, to the incarnate, and Ivy as ever, because she would grow rapidly over all other living things without their approval. Without their judgment. The world would burn, and she would ensure that she did her part to bring that apocalypse about.

Her smell was affecting Bane. His head dropped as the overwhelming pheromones took his senses, for her self-passion was releasing them by the masses. But she did not care. Let him suffer. That alone was exhilarating, to know that she could torment someone and still have them grovel for her. All that was left of this entity was hate. Hate for every living thing, including the titan Bane. What was he, but something that Mother Earth had given to her to bring about her victory and then dispose of like the rest of the mammals? He could never be like her. She was perfection. And perfection was all she would have in her world. Anyone less than that perfection had no place, and would simply be eradicated.

I hate this world, she thought venomously.

"Ma'am…" the pilot at the front sounded so very disoriented. He groaned loudly. She settled herself up, wiping the sweat from her face as she looked towards the cockpit.

"Yes, lover?"

"Oh, wow… you smell…so wonderful…"

"That I do," she agreed in a soft voice that sung choirs of sensuality, intentional to subjugate his mind all the more. She widened the gap between each leg, so as to release the pheromone more strongly so. "I bet you want me, don't you, Alejandro?"

"S…s-si….si…."

"Well, keep flying for me," she whispered lovingly, producing from her pocket a small makeup mirror, the casing crafted to the shape of an oak leaf. What little time the fire had given her back at the lab had enabled a collection of the pheromones she emitted to be powdered, and the pink dust, very much like glitter. She held it up and blew a strong dust cloud forward, the pheromones taking on a life of their own as they sailed through the air as pink smoke, overwhelming the pilot inside of the pit. He moaned loudly, sounding as a man who had been given the most passionate of times. "Keep flying for me and you will have earned your reward," she promised, enjoying his subjugation. "I'm going to kiss you, Alejandro, so very passionately. Would you like that?"

"Si…si! Si! SI!" He was positively screaming, so loudly and so animalistically. A gorilla dancing for food, a child putting on a magic show for the impression of his parents.

"Then fly, Alejandro! Fly for me! Gotham City is the destination, so bring me there and I will love you so much. You want me? You can have me, once we touch down in Gotham. Because in all honesty, Alejandro…I want you."

The man sighed, his breathing so heavy he may very well have a heart attack. She rubbed her hands together, grinning up at Bane. She was his. "He's so mine, Bane, darling. The poor fool's gone mad for me, can you hear him?" She looked forward, smiling her evil smile. "So fun is it to pry with the minds of useless mammals and make them beg for their food."

"Food…"

"Oh, yeah, that's right. We haven't eaten yet, have we?" She turned around in the seat and looked into the large duffle bag that sat there. Unzipping the great bulk, she produced from its depths a glass jar. Contained inside of the jar were at least fifty grasshoppers and even a few caterpillars. Holes were poked into the top of the lid to provide air. She unstoppered the lid and reached a hand inside, scraping up a couple of caterpillars, one of which was a large orange-back Oakwork, as well as a fat South American locust. Without hesitation she lifted her hand and forced the insects, still thriving and very much alive, into her mouth, whilst simultaneously closing the lid to the jar, though she had pulled all of the wings from the grasshoppers within and the caterpillars moved so slowly that none had a chance of escaping. The insects in mouth crunched satisfyingly between her teeth and gums as she munched on the bugs, a strange mixture of bitter juices moisturizing her gums as she chewed. She closed her eyes, rubbing her stomach slowly as she moaned with a very vocal, "Umm…"

Bane watched her with an intense stare, yearning for some bugs himself, if that was all they had, but she gave him none. She stuffed the jar back into her bag and swallowed the small mass of critters, opening her eyes as her green irises flashed.

"This dinner practically crawls around within, doesn't it, Bane? But the ascension makes it clear that we must play our roles as such. What?" She noticed the silent, stone still look that that mask gave her, and he mumbled loudly, "Food….."

"The food in that bag is for me, Bane. You…you can find your own food, surely, when we reach Gotham, yeah?"

"Food!" Bane grumbled, more loudly this time. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"And what exactly do you want, Bane?"

"Any…thing…"

"Anything, huh? You stupid lumbering ape. Can't you speak faster?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head sadly. "Just starve for a while, Bane. Save your appetite for Gotham. There's going to be plenty to feast upon there, I assure you. The bones of children or dogs pulled off the street. Won't those be enough?"

He said nothing to this. The stoniness of him made him almost seemed like an overgrown puppet. It was eerie, in some ways. Unsure as to whether or not he could truly be alive. Well, that fitted well. He was dead to her, already, for having committed the sin of existing.

She patted him lightly on the chest. So close to the Turbo button. She gandered at the guess that, if pressed, the Venom compound may drive him into such a frenzy that he may very well storm into the cockpit and tear the pilot limb from limb, if only to crunch upon the bones. As amusing and admittedly hot as that would be to watch, neither of them knew how to pilot or land a plane, and thus Alejandro could not be killed until Gotham City. And, of course, she wanted to kill Alejandro. Waiting for that beautiful moment was almost more than she could bear….

"Dear Pamela, welcome, welcome! My name is Jason, Jason Woodrue! How do you do?"

"I'm fine, Dr. Woodrue. Thank you so much for accepting my application. I've always wanted to come to South America."

"My dear, you will be a ripe sight of a flower within this lonely jungle. You and I…we're going places, I can assure you…"

Yeah, Jason, that was all well and good. They had gone places, and those places had revealed so much. The village of Gier se Dosa to steal an orchid flower called the Zanzept, for its potent toxin Haryllium, to the Colombia Institute of Wildlife Preservation, yet again for the theft of Unyx plant samples. And all of that work for what? Jason had known her aspirations. To give plants the abilities to fight back. Animal plant toxins. He had encouraged it. Adored it, even. Their shared repulsion had given room for an alliance less desired by Ivy's end.

"Bruce Wayne won't be any different, Bane, I can assure you. He's as stuck to himself as any other fly would be to honey. I just have to use the right allure. A fly like that loves a Venus fly trap. With his resources, Eden will have its march. Rising up from the ashes of mankind's slime. Do you think that Wayne will enjoy my company as much as you do, Bane? Do you think he'll let me into his house, maybe even into his bed? What I wouldn't give to induce death upon that waste of fresh air. He funded Woodrue this entire time, aided in the corruption of my work. What chance could I give plants to fight back with a man like that funding Woodrue's falsery behind all our backs? My children were starved of their chance by Bruce Wayne's wasted money. Well, you know what, Bane? Poison Ivy has marked Bruce Wayne on her list. He'll be one of the first to go. First, I'll approach him with my "Wayne Enterprises: A Cessation of Toxifications" proposal. It might allure to his good will not to give into that proposition, as it would conflict with the standard "We can't have a mass killing on our hands" protocol."

"As for when he outwardly refuses, it will be the beginning of his downfall. The people will not only see him as coward, but also unwilling to help the environment he has sworn to protect with institutions such as the South American facility. That being said, his hypocritical nature, along with pressure from the press, could push him beyond his limits and he may be forced to consider the proposal. A little "love dust", of course, will come into play, Bane. Alejandro here exemplifies the very nature of my growing power, Bane: they will submit because I deem it required. They would trade their very souls for five seconds of my company if my pheromones willed it. Bruce Wayne won't be any more invulnerable than our pilot friend here."

"Assuming that this goes as well as I see it going, we can have deaths by the millions near the end of the month. Imagine that, Bane. Millions of people freezing to death and starving, all because Bruce Wayne put a stopper on the access to diesel fuel and food coolants. All of this will contribute to the new Eden. With millions dying, this world will be purified to the state that I need it to be. And the Wayne name will be the start of it all. Well, the official start. Woodrue, truly, was the name that started it."

"I can see it now, Bane. Vines strangling whole skyscrapers and poisonous spores for thousands and thousands of miles. Our Eden, Bane, can you imagine it? I just need Wayne to push the first stages into action. I'm ready for it, Bane. It's the future."

She looked out of the window, anticipating the end of the world which was so close to her grasp. "It's the future…"

Her hot, steamy breath clouded the window, and she happily traced her finger about the mist, spelling out the word EDEN with a mad smile on her face. "Who will try to stand in the way, I wonder?"